


Allegorical

by Gaqalesqua



Series: Elder Scrolls Kink Meme Fills [12]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Aldmeri Dominion, Biting, Bondage, Community: skyrimkinkmeme, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Fingering, Forced Orgasm, Hate Sex, Mede Empire, Molestation, Racism, Skyrim Kink Meme, Smut, concrete sexual allegory, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5061112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Thalmor are keen to establish dominance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Allegorical

Altia Verandus patrolled the halls of the White Gold Tower with a sense of unease. There were Thalmor in the halls, agents of the Summerset Isles’ ruling faction, and all of them had looked her over in one of three ways – a flea to be crushed, an invisible wall, and a piece of meat to be devoured. It was bad enough being in the palace guard and a woman – so few of her fellow guards were women, and the last thing she wanted was to end up an Altmer’s plaything on a ship to Alinor. It was at times like these that she wished her Imperial armour was less easy to flip up for anyone who wanted to fuck her. Whilst it made barracks trysts simpler, when she was surrounded by Altmer like this, she wasn’t sure she wanted the accessibility. Altia wanted her shift to be over so that she could go back to her bunk and sleep for the rest of the evening. In the guest wing, she was close to far too many empty rooms. Every time there were strange visitors in the Palace, and she was in this wing, her patrols were quick and meticulous, in case any of the dignitaries, gender or race regardless, decided that the young Imperial woman walking around outside was a tasty addition to their bedtime routines.

 “Well, well,” a voice purred, and she started, looking over towards its bearer to find a Thalmor, hooded in those damned black robes, leaning against a nearby pillar. “What a lovely thing you are. For a human, at least. I see high cheekbones and full lips behind that helmet. And your eyes are such an intriguing shade of brown.” He approached her, and she stiffened. “We don’t have such a colour on the Isles, not among pure-bred Altmer. Brown is for Redguards and Bosmer.” He reached for her, and she stepped away, gripping her spear tightly. “Let me examine you,” he commanded.

 “You’re not my officer, so I don’t take orders from you,” she said stiffly. “Who are you?”

 “My name isn’t important,” he assured her. “Other things about me, however, might be.”

 “I suggest you find your rooms,” she advised shortly. “It’s getting close to ten.”

 “A wise piece of advice,” he murmured. “Shall I be going alone? I think not.”

 He walked towards her and Altia unwittingly backed herself into a corner. She hit the wall and he leaned over her, grasping her helmet in his leather clad hands. Lifting it from her, he tossed it to the floor, and placed his arms either side of her to trap her.

 “Let me return to my patrol,” she demanded, trying to stop her voice from cracking.

 “You can do just that,” he told her. “After you’ve spent a night with me.”

 “No.” He grinned at the statement, a wolfish expression that unsettled her. He gripped her spear and took it from her in a single, strong wrench, throwing it to the stone floor as he pressed her into the wall, his body heat suffusing the space around her. Altia tried not to tremble. She was a soldier of the Imperial Legion, a guard of the White Gold Tower, and this Altmer was likely nothing more than a jumped up Justiciar desperate to get his rocks off. He had no power over her.

 “Let me repeat myself. I will allow you to go back to your patrol, unharmed, but having experienced the most pleasurable night of your life, if you agree to go with me to my chambers and be fucked by me. If not…” he trailed off. “If not, I will force you there, and subject you to the most pleasurable night of your life. Which is it to be, Imperial?”

 “Go fuck yourself,” she snarled, shoving him heavily. He barely moved, and with a rising sense of dread she realised he was bulkier and more muscular than the robes he wore gave him away to be. He gripped her arms, pinning her against the wall as a strange glint entered his eye.

 “I should have known you’d choose to be forced into submission,” he growled, shoving her wrists up by her head. “You damned little humans are so insistent on being subjugated by superior beings. Very well, young Imperial. You could have had me willingly, but you chose to play hard to get.”

 He could have paralysed her but he didn’t, enjoying how she writhed as he pulled her away from the wall and into the nearest room. Truthfully, he had just exited it to find another agent when he’d spotted her. The timing was perfect. He hadn’t blown off steam since his last tryst with a girl back in Alinor, and that was months ago. He needed a good fuck, and this Imperial looked like she’d be a perfect mix of unbreakable will and wonderful moans. The hardest ones to tame always had the best sounds. When he shut the door behind him he made sure to lock it tightly with a spell, throwing her down on the bed and shoving her back with his magic as he approached her. She struggled against the push but he kept his magicka firm, watching her strain against his power. Her muscles bunched beneath the armour and he cooed in delight. A warrior! They always took the longest to break down, but when they did, it was worth the effort. She’d have something to tell to her fellow guards on the long nights when they told stories, an erotic tale that would leave Imperials of all sexualities squirming and breathless. He could picture it now as he unlaced his gloves. She would never forget him, finding pleasure only with him in her mind. It would be a perfect, poetic way to conquer his enemy.

 She struggled as he loomed over her, ripping her armour off as he knelt on her thighs. His hands seemed to be everywhere, stripping her of her boots and greaves, sliding beneath her skirts to roll her smalls down a little. It felt like an assault from every side, one she had no hope of repelling unless his magicka wound down. When it did, she tried to sit up and found herself pinned back down by his hands, a physical restraint this time that was somehow more terrifying than simple magic. He unlaced and unbuckled her from her armour as he began to kiss her body, biting her neck and causing her to stifle a moan. As more skin was revealed she fought harder, and he held her tighter, pushing her back every time she got up. Something secured itself around her feet, and the next time she struggled she found her left leg could barely move. Within seconds, her right suffered the same fate, and she found him pressed into her, rocking against her body as he took her bra from her. It was tossed on the floor, and he fondled her breasts, seemingly ignoring her hands’ attempts to get him off her. Her neck was ravaged by his lips and teeth, his sucking leaving dark welts in the tanned flesh. His thumbs grazed her nipples and she hit him, feeling herself involuntarily get wet. She began to pant, swallowing anything louder as he tweaked the peaks of her breasts gently. He seemed to be admiring them, his head leaving her neck for a few seconds to skim down her body to her chest. She grabbed his hair when he pulled one into his mouth, and he pinned her arms above her with one long-fingered hand. The other glided over her belly, hooking into her smalls and pulling them away from her.

 Oh gods no.

 His tongue assaulted her breast as his fingers slid between her legs, a slick sound following them as Altia swallowed a moan. He rubbed them over her bud and she nearly gasped at the sensation of his slippery digits running across the sensitive nub. She twitched, arching slightly beneath the stimulation. Trying not to let his touches affect her, she glared at him, lip trembling. He pressed harder, the pace increasing. The sound, a wet, sexy noise, reverberated around the room as he molested her, and her hips rose and fell with the touches. In an agonisingly slow motion he slid two fingers inside of her, thumb bracing against her nub. She was wet now, and he dragged the digits along her inner walls, crooking them and seeing her jolt in pleasure. This was unfair. It was more than unfair. With each curl he’d thrust them deep into her, long fingers able to reach places previous lovers had missed. He wasn’t being slow, either – the stimulation was harsh, almost too much pleasure as he forced her towards completion. Altia wouldn’t get there without a fight.

She struggled, trying to break her bonds and free her hands as he withdrew his fingers and plunged them back in, watching how her wetness glistened on his fingers in the lamplight. It was erotic, she admitted, if not for the fact that he was a Thalmor agent bent on fucking her without caring for her consent. The sensation of his leather gloves inside her added a strange disembodiment to his presence. His fingers weren’t touching her skin, even though he was sucking her breast eagerly. Altia arched, her breathing ragged as his digits drove her into pleasure, rubbing her bud and walls without mercy. A shudder of ecstasy raced down her entire body, and her toes curled, as her orgasm crashed into her. He continued, only withdrawing his fingers when she jerked. It was too much.

 He let her hands go to remove his gloves, and Altia tried to headbutt him, punching his stomach firmly. Winded, he nevertheless produced some leather strips and bound her hands to the headboard. Wrists securely together, she was completely spread open in front of him. She felt her wetness on her thighs, glaring at him as he sat up, moving away from her. The gloves came off and were placed on a nearby table, followed by his boots. The hood followed, nimble fingers unbuckling the various belts connecting its lower piece together. The belt came after, dropping to the floor with a thud. Altia stared at him. His hair was short, not stubbly but cropped, enough for a woman to dig her fingers into. She hated herself for thinking of it that way. He shrugged off the long jacket, removing a long black tabard made of silk. When the tabard was gone, Altia was treated to his naked torso, lightly scarred and golden in colour. His yellow eyes gazed at her curiously as he watched her stare, the slightest smirk on his face. He wasn’t a warrior, but he was toned, muscles bunching just enough to betray his strength. His stomach showed the beginnings of abdominal muscles, brought on by agility and the occasional use of a staff.

 He gripped the waistband of his trousers and she struggled, but her bonds were firm and she was forced to watch, unable to tear her eyes away, as he dropped the black leather trousers from around his waist and revealed a loose loincloth beneath. When the loincloth was removed, Altia had to stop herself from biting her lip. He was a good six or seven inches long, with golden hairs dotting the base of his cock. Two inches thick, he was uncut, and her sex clenched traitorously at the thought of him fucking her. His fingers were good enough, but he was right – he would show her pleasure unrivalled.

He approached the bed, running his fingers over her breasts before he straddled her, grasping her hips. He kissed her again, and she headbutted him. He fell back, dazed, laughing. Altia glared at him from her position on the bed, wanting nothing more than to strangle him.

 “Not quite ready, I see,” he observed.

 “I’m not going to let you fuck me,” she snapped. 

“You don’t have a choice,” he told her with a grin, kissing her breast and sucking on her. She cursed, feeling his tongue lapping over her stomach. His lips pressed into her pubic bone, before his thumbs opened her up, and he licked a stripe up her slit to the sensitive nub. Altia swore loudly, whimpering as he tongued her. He sucked and she arched as much as she could with her restraints. He showed no clemency when pleasuring her, tongue darting inside her and over her most sensitive spots.

 “I…hate you…” she gasped, and he snorted, gripping her hips tightly, diving into her core and sucking her. She wanted to squeeze his head with her thighs but she was tied too tightly. He was sinfully good, pulling groans and whimpers from her mouth as she tossed her head. It was torture. Altia felt helpless, able to do nothing more than ride his mouth. Her restraints creaked as her muscles coiled, pulling fiercely on what held her down. The inability to hit and kick at him was pure frustration, coupled with what his tongue was doing. His nails bit her skin and he almost hugged her hips to his face, groaning into her crotch. The vibrations made her jump, and she squirmed, feeling his tongue dip inside her.

 He sucked her softly, his finger sliding back into her. Her moans echoed in the room, and Altia panted, slick dripping from her entrance as he licked her towards her next high. The obscene, wet laps of his tongue met her ears. Nobody had ever done this to her before, and he seemed to be devouring her, enjoying her taste as he fingered her. That the first man to taste her was a Thalmor was neither embarrassing nor terrifying, but Altia was angry. Because of him she would never view sex the same way again.

 She hit her peak with something close to a scream, and when his tongue didn’t stop lashing her she fell back in her restraints and moaned at the overstimulation. She felt something in the restraints give, not enough to set her free, but it gave her hope. As he continued to lick, shudders ran up her spine. She felt herself growing towards another burst of pleasure, and when it hit, she cried out again. He licked her clean, sitting up and straddling her waist.

 “I think it’s time I took a little for myself,” he purred, grasping his cock in hand and guiding it to her mouth. “Open, and suck for me, and if you bite, there will be consequences.”

 Altia grudgingly opened her mouth, and he slid himself inside, grasping her head as he began to slowly move his hips back and forth. He moaned softly, fingers stroking her hair as she sucked. She’d done this before, and she knew how to get a man off. She tongued the slit at the top of his cock, bobbing her head back and forth. The hairs at his base tickled her nose, but she never got close enough to take him to the hilt. She teethed it a little, continuing to suck. He shuddered, grinning.

 “By the Eight, you’re good at this,” he breathed. “Much practise in the barracks, I see.”

 She growled and he gasped in delight at the vibrations running over his cock, moaning. He pulled himself out slowly and wiped her mouth clean from the saliva around her lips, smirking in satisfaction.

 “I’ll spend in your mouth later,” he promised. “Right now, I’d like to fuck you.”

 He moved down the bed, opening her up with his fingers and pressing his head against her slit. Slowly, agonisingly, he slid himself in, parting her walls and causing her to whimper. Gods, she was almost ready to cum again. The size of him was as she’d expected, and he felt hard and unyielding, burying his head in her shoulder as he went in to the hilt. He bit her neck softly, licking the area and causing her to buck in surprise. That made them both groan. She tested the restraint on her right arm where he couldn’t see. It was definitely coming apart. A few more tugs, maybe.

 The Justiciar didn’t start slowly once he was in. He grasped her hips and started to fuck her like she was air and he was a drowning man. Pressing his form roughly against hers, he kissed her, groaning wildly as she gasped. It was more than she could have imagined, harder than she’d ever been taken. Breathing became difficult. His nails met her back, rough and raking down her skin, leaving welts she’d have for days to come. He bit her, again and again, capturing her lips as his body slammed into hers. This was rough, it was calculated, and he hit all the spots she had, her eyes raising to the ceiling as sweat dripped down her body.

 She was on fire, shuddering with each thrust as he rolled her clit beneath his thumb. His other hand was in her hair, holding on tightly as his mouth ravished her neck, fingers twitching as she felt him, quiver. This was affecting him just as much as it was her, and she tried not to imagine his face, coiled tight in delightful torture.

 “Ahh!” he moaned. “You…feel so good, little guardsman.”

 His hand moved down, cupping her breast and flicking her nipple as he took her, golden skin contrasting against her bronze body. She moaned, and he kissed her.

 “I see why you…you patrol the…oh gods…the rich quarters, you’re quite the…Auriel, ughn!..quite prepared for anything.”

 His groaning shouldn’t have affected her the way it did, but the thought of the smooth-talking agent being reduced to a hot mess by the feeling of her body was strange. His words were stuttered, and his lips trembled against her skin. He wanted this. He wanted her. It made her feel powerful, even if she hated the situation.

 “Popular?” he moaned against her. “Are-are you?”

 She came, loudly and arching into him as he whispers stupid pet names into her ear, biting her neck, fingering her nub and rolling her nipple under his thumbs. He twitched, and spurted into her a minute or so later, collapsing next to her and panting like a dying man. Altia gathered her strength, managing to break free of the restraints and rolling him onto his back. She jumped from the bed, rolling onto the floor and grabbing her amour. He sat up, panting, as she threw some of it on and ran out of the room. He watched her go, staggering out of the bed and over to his robes. Pulling them over his head, he fastened them, pulling up his trousers and slipping on his hood. He picked up his gloves, and walked slightly awkwardly from his room. A bark caught his ears.

 “Tarindil!” his superior snapped. “Where in Oblivion have you been?” The other Altmer looked his subordinate over, and scoffed. “Perhaps I don’t want to know. Get back to your station.”

 “As you wish, Narimian,” Tarindil replied.


End file.
